


let's be lucky people

by localswordlesbian



Series: sweet tooth for you [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Babysitting, Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Gay Male Character, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, jonmartin babysit wtgfs baby, this is basically "if everyone from here survives", yes i made myself cry with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localswordlesbian/pseuds/localswordlesbian
Summary: Melanie and Georgie need someone to look after their daughter for the weekend. Jon and Martin step up to the plate, and some unpleasant memories are brought up
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: sweet tooth for you [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120133
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	let's be lucky people

**Author's Note:**

> mild cw for panic attacks and physical illness/nausea partway through, it's not graphic but i figured i should include a cw

“You do know this will be nothing like looking after the admiral, right?”

Jon gave Martin a half-hearted glare, tying his long hair up into a ponytail. “I’m fully aware that human children are nothing like cats, Martin.”

Martin chuckled. “I just had to make sure you weren’t going to pick her up and start swinging her around like a sack of potatoes.”

Jon scoffed in offense. “I am  _ not _ going to pick her up and swing her like a sack of potatoes! I know how children work.”

“That sounds like something that someone who definitely doesn’t know how children work would say.”

Jon stuck his tongue out over his tea and Martin couldn’t suppress a giggle. Strands of his hair had once again begun to show the gray that was underneath the pale pink that Martin had put there weeks ago, streaking through his long black ponytail and down his back. He was wearing a large cardigan and one of his old band shirts from university, and Martin happily noticed that both seemed to fit Jon significantly better than when he’d worn both before. The shirt no longer hung off of Jon’s shoulder, his bones no longer jutted unnaturally from his skin. He looked, for the first time in a long time, truly healthy and happy. The thought filled Martin’s chest with a seemingly unwavering joy.

“Martin, love, your tea is getting cold.”

Martin blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. Jon was gesturing to his mug, which had stopped steaming. Jon tilted his head. “Are you alright?” Concern was evident on his face.

Martin waved his hand. “I’m fine, sorry. Just spaced out for a second. Really,” he added when Jon didn’t look convinced. Martin smiled. “I’m good.”

Jon seemed satisfied with that, finishing off his own tea before turning toward the sink. “Well, then we should clean up before Melanie and Georgie get here.”

Martin snorted. “Gotta make a good impression to the friends we went through a literal apocalypse with and their one year old baby.”

Jon smacked him with a dish towel.

“Remember to always hold her behind her head – babies’ heads are very fragile, you know.”

“Georgie, I got it the third time you told me.”

Martin smiled as Georgie sighed. Tentatively, she held the baby Alice out to Jon, who carefully wrapped her in his arms. Martin’s breath hitched slightly, and it took all his willpower to not give away just how much it made his heart melt to watch Jon hold that child so delicately, as if she were the most precious bundle of happiness in the world.

Melanie, standing next to him with her arms crossed and her cane dangling casually in one hand, wasn’t fooled. She nudged him sharply, shooting him a smirk as he let out an embarrassed chuckle and nudged her back. She knew exactly how red his face was, and she was loving it.

He watched as Jon stared at little Alice, as if in awe that she was real. Martin remembered when they’d first heard about Georgie and Melanie’s daughter, that they’d adopted a newborn girl after the world went back to normal and her parents were nowhere to be found. Martin had felt so much pride for his friends, that they had their shit together enough to raise a child. He couldn’t even imagine how difficult of a decision that must have been; Georgie and Melanie hadn’t been together for that long before the apocalypse, and they hadn’t exactly had the normal early relationship hurdles.

Then again, neither had he and Jon. What with Jon rescuing Martin from the physical manifestation of loneliness before the two fled to Scotland to escape their evil eldritch boss.

Martin could hardly imagine a life with children, even now. Though, seeing Jon cradling the baby in his arms nearly brought tears to his eyes.

He’d expected Alice to cry, or to lament being in the arms of somebody other than either of her mothers. Instead, she was gazing up at Jon with wonder in her wide eyes, her thumb stuck in her mouth as she mouthed her tongue and simply stared. Jon gave out a surprised laugh. “Hello, you. It’s nice to meet you.”

The baby opened her mouth, her eyes staring straight up at Jon, before she reached out one chubby hand and seized a strand of his hair, letting out a high-pitched giggle as she held onto the pink-and-black strands. Jon let out a squeak of surprise, though he didn’t seem to be in pain. Hearing the baby laugh seemed to visibly relax Melanie, and Martin put a hand on her shoulder. She shot him a grateful look.

“I was half convinced she’d scream in terror at the sight of him,” she whispered.

Martin glared, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. Perhaps she’d feel the force of it, though he knew she was kidding. “Very funny.”

“It’s one of my many charms.”

They turned back to the others. Georgie had the softest smile on her face that Martin had ever seen – she looked as ready to melt as Martin felt. He knew that Georgie cared deeply for Jon, and he could only imagine the surrealness of the sight in front of her, of her ex lover turned friend, turned cold acquaintance turned friend again, holding her daughter, and her daughter laughing while she grabbed his hair and babbled in that silly tongue babies spoke in.

Martin was surprised his heart hadn’t physically exploded yet.

Georgie smiled. “Well, since you two seem to have the hang of it, I think we’ll be off.” At her wife’s words, Melanie tightened her grip on her cane and moved to stand by her side. “Remember, call us if you need anything. It’s not easy, babies are a lot to deal with–”

“We’ll call you,” Martin interrupted. Melanie shot him a grateful nod of the head. “I think we’re going to be just fine.”

Melanie grinned. “I happen to agree.”

Turns out, taking care of a baby was a lot more tiring than Martin anticipated.

It wasn’t as if he’d thought it would be easy – he’d always been told about how difficult caring for babies was, the emotional and physical toll it took on parents, how difficult it was to know exactly what they wanted, to know when to put them to sleep, feed them, burp them, change their diaper, et cetera.

What he hadn’t expected was the sheer panic and guilt that shot through him every time little Alice cried, the racing of his heart as he scrambled to figure out what, exactly, she needed. Jon didn’t seem to be faring much better, seemingly exhausted by the time it was barely afternoon.

She needed a nap in the middle of the day, that was what Georgie had told them, but when the time came she simply refused to settle down. “If she doesn’t sleep, her brain will get over-stimulated. Or something.” Jon worried his lips between his teeth. “I don’t remember the exact wording.”

Martin breathed a tired laugh, wondering just how such a tiny human seemed to have so much energy. “You could read to her?”

Jon considered. “That’s not a bad idea.” Making his way to the bookshelf, he picked up a book seemingly at random before plopping himself into the armchair. Martin couldn’t suppress a laugh. “What?”

“Nothing, you just look like a tired grandpa is all.”

He really did, with his hair up in a messy bun and his oversized cardigan, slumped in their armchair with a book in his lap and their friend’s baby in the makeshift crib next to him. Jon scowled, though laughter glinted in his tired eyes. “Oh, hush.”

“Are you sure that book is baby appropriate?”

“You tell me, it’s one of your poetry books.”

Martin sighed. “Yeah, then it’s fine.”

Jon grinned before turning to Alice, who was lying on her back and seemingly surveying the both of them with large eyes. “Alright, hopefully this puts you to sleep.”

Then Jon began to read.

At first it was normal, just Jon reading a Keats poem aloud, his voice intonating normally. Martin couldn't even pinpoint exactly when it began to change. All he knew was one moment it was Jon, and the next, it was the Archivist.

Jon hadn’t had his powers since the world returned from its ruined, fear-powered state, and that had been difficult for him at first. He’d relied so heavily on his Sight as they’d trekked across the domains of all of the fears, trusted it at every turn, that a return to normal had been jarring. Some habits, he’d picked up before he even took up the position, and the Archivist voice was one of them.

Those old habits were the ones he couldn’t shake.

Martin felt a chill settle in his bones, a deep and unsettling fear seeming to dig deep into his bones as he listened to Jon recite poetry. As he listened, trying to remind himself that this was Jon, this wasn’t the Archivist, Avatar of the Beholding, this was his boyfriend who had no attachment to that monster anymore, Jon’s voice faded and was replaced.

Replaced by a voice that made Martin sick to his stomach.

Standing quickly, Martin made his way out of the room as quickly as he could without disturbing Alice, who had drifted off to sleep at some point. His stomach rolled as he stumbled into the kitchen, finding his way there through muscle memory alone as his head spun at a rate too quick for Martin to handle. Reaching the sink, he stumbled, catching himself on his elbows as he dry-heaved, nothing but bile roiling in his stomach and making him feel horribly ill.

His senses felt muted, and he had the horrible realization that he was going to have a panic attack.  _ Grounding, grounding _ , he thought desperately.  _ Five things I see – the sink, the fridge, tea mugs, the faucet, the counter _ . He took a breath. His lungs seemed to have forgotten how to accept air. He gulped.  _ Four things I can hear _ –

“Martin?” Jon’s voice was soft from behind him, and was it soft or was Martin’s hearing muffled? No, he was definitely speaking softly.  _ Jon’s voice. Jon’s footsteps approaching _ . He tried to lift himself, bracing his hands against the edge of the sink.

Jon didn’t say anything else, simply moved to stand next to Martin, where he could see him. Martin pressed his eyes closed, forcing air into his lungs, choking on the air he desperately needed, taking breath after breath after breath after–

“Love, look at me. Look at me and breathe.”

Martin opened his eyes, staring at Jon as Jon’s chest rose and fell rhythmically, and Martin mimicked the movement until the act of breathing didn’t feel like he was fighting against his instincts. Seeing he had relaxed slightly, Jon slowly sank to sit down and Martin followed, his back to the kitchen counter while Jon crouched in front of him, not touching him, simply waiting. Martin reached out, and Jon took his hands, rubbing slow circles over Martin’s knuckles. They stayed like that for he didn’t know how long, until sensation started to return to him.

“Are you alright, love?” Jon asked softly, his brow creased with concern and his eyes full of sorrow. Not pity, never pity, simply the look of someone who cared.

Martin swallowed, nodding. “I’m fine.” Jon tilted his head at that. “I just… when you were reading, you did that thing, with your voice. The thing you did when we worked at the Institute, when you read statements. Then it wasn’t you, it was Jonah, and I– I got scared. I was so afraid, Jon.”

Jon exhaled, his brow furrowing even more. “Fuck,” he muttered softly. “Martin, I– I am so sorry.”

Martin shook his head, laughing wetly. “It’s not your fault. None of it is. I just… the last thing I want is to be afraid of you.”

Jon squeezed his hands, lifting them to his lips and pressing a kiss to Martin’s knuckles. “I know. That’s… that’s the last thing I want, too. I never want to be the reason you’re afraid, and I know I have been before, and–” He cut himself off. “Perhaps you could read to Alice from now on? I do love hearing you read aloud.”

Martin exhaled. He knew that even reading on his own was something Jon had struggled with after – well, after everything. He would become afraid, start shaking so hard he’d tear the paper, though his mind itched to read, to discover and to learn and to know. So Martin had begun to read aloud to him, until Jon was able to do it on his own.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Jon rubbed his thumb over Martin’s knuckles, making soothing motions over his hands. Martin focused on the sensation, willing the last edges of the memory of Jonah’s voice to leave his head. He wanted nothing more than to simply be normal again, to be the Martin Blackwood he’d been before he’d ever even heard of the Magnus Institute.

Though, without the Institute, he wouldn’t have Jon. He wouldn’t have this life, with his friends’ baby in the next room and a man who he loved and who loved him. “I wonder what Daisy would think,” he said suddenly.

Jon looked up at him. “Of what?”

Martin shrugged. “All this. Of Alice.”

A look of sadness passed over Jon’s face, though he smiled. “I think she’d be proud.”

They sat on the kitchen floor until the crying of the baby shook them out of their stupor. Jon went to check on her while Martin stood, albeit shakily. He tried to clean up the kitchen a little bit, feeling guilty that Jon was doing all the work with Alice, though it quickly became clear that he was essentially out of commission, at least for now.

They ended up ordering takeout instead of even bothering with making dinner, and by evening the three of them were sprawled on the couch with crappy evening shows playing on the TV. Alice was fast asleep, lying facedown on Jon’s chest, and Martin couldn’t stop smiling at how adorable it was.

“Say cheese,” he laughed, pulling out his phone. Jon’s eyes widened in surprise as Martin snapped a picture. “Sorry, you just looked too adorable to resist.”

Jon sighed. “Yes, she certainly is cute when she’s asleep and not screaming for something or other, isn’t she.”

Martin chuckled. She did look peaceful, her thumb in her mouth as she slept. Jon, on the other hand, looked worn. His hair had fallen out of its bun, tumbling around his face in unruly curls that made Martin want to brush his hands through it, and he’d ditched the cardigan so he was in jeans and his old t-shirt.  _ God, I really love this man, _ Martin thought, a smile spreading over his face.

Jon reached out the hand that wasn’t holding Alice to his chest and placed it over Martin’s on the couch. “Are you okay?”

Martin nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. It wasn’t pleasant, but it’s over now.”

Jon nodded. “Next time, please stop me. I– I never want to be the cause of another panic attack. Please.”

Martin nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “I will.”

Jon squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Leaning in, he pressed a chaste kiss to Jon’s lips. “We should put her to bed.”

Jon hummed, staring down at the little human he was holding to his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this protective of a human being before. No offence,” he added mischievously.

Martin laughed. “None taken. I feel the same, actually.”

“I wonder how we’d do as parents.”

Martin considered it for a moment. He’d always assumed he’d never have kids, what with all the circumstances in his life up until this point seeming to pile against the idea. Though, the more he thought about it…

“I don’t think we’d be half bad. Though it’s a little too much to think about right now.”

Jon nodded. “Of course.”

He stood, careful not to wake the sleeping Alice, carrying her off to her makeshift crib in their bedroom. Martin watched him go, watched through the doorway as his boyfriend set the baby down gently, pulling a blanket over her before standing over her crib, watching her for a moment before turning back and heading for the couch. He immediately collapsed into Martin’s side, burrowing himself against him. Martin held him with an arm around his waist and the other over his shoulders as they finally allowed themselves to relax.

Martin did stop to wonder, several times over the course of the weekend they took care of Alice, just how Daisy would react to all of this. They’d survived the end of the world, eldritch horrors and monsters that looked just as human as any of them, and they’d somehow held onto each other through the cyclone of it all. He wondered what she’d say if she could learn that Georgie and Melanie had named their daughter after her.

One night, when he was awoken by her cries, he stood to comfort her after assuring Jon he would handle it. As he bent to pick her up, he could have sworn he could see the shape of the scarred blonde woman standing next to him, watching him as he carried this baby who bore her name to the kitchen to feed her. He knew it was his sleep-addled mind, but he felt a sense of comfort at seeing her, standing and watching him with her arms crossed and a face betraying a glowing sense of pride.

As he blinked sleep from his eyes, Daisy Tonner began to fade. Before she disappeared, she glanced through the bedroom door, where Jon lay asleep under the covers. A look of mourning seemed to pass over her, and Martin could have sworn he heard her speak. “Take care of him,” her voice rang in his head.

He blinked, and she was gone.

Sighing, he finished feeding and burping Alice, who was completely unaware of all Martin had seen. He knew it wasn’t real – Alice “Daisy” Tonner was gone, and Alice Barker-King remained in her place. Daisy and Martin had never been close anyway, but as he put the baby back to bed and crawled under the covers with his boyfriend, he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

He was doing okay.

As Jon snuggled closer in his sleep, and grogginess took over Martin once more, he fell asleep knowing he was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> i was talking to some friends about jonmartin babysitting, and thus this fic was born. this fic is basically "if everyone from here on out survives" which is why daisy is gone, plus i thought it'd add angst :)  
> i also based martin's panic attack on my own and the way i experience and deal with them, i know they're not a universal experience but i figured that would be the best way to write them  
> thank you to everyone who's shown so much love to this series, it's been making me so happy to write it!! I love reading all the comments i get on these fics, they make my day <3


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